


Hauntings Turn Into A Love Story

by ellomello16



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ghost!Tom, M/M, Mild Language, not much about this one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellomello16/pseuds/ellomello16
Summary: Marco has moved into his grandmother's house. But what happens when he meets an unexpected guest? Or more like unexpected ghost? Tom has lived in the house for almost a thousand years. His life will soon change once he meets the new owner of the home.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little project I'm working on based off of tomco-headcannons' au on tumblr, you guys should totally read their fanfictions

Marco Diaz was finally nineteen years old. His parents had thought that he should have his own home, but for Marco that was already hard enough. Only yesterday his parents had mentioned that his grandmother, from his mother's side, had moved out of her home to a retirement one. It had only seemed like he was being kicked out by his parents, but he knew it was almost time for him to leave the nest. His best friend, Star Butterfly, his former roommate and foreign exchange student had moved out earlier that year and went back to her small town to carry on the family business. Marco was once again left alone in his home, packing the last of his things. Looking around his once called bedroom, now empty, he sighed and grabbed the cardboard box, making his way out of the room and down the stairs.

About thirty minutes later, he was sitting in the back of his parents' car, being driven to the new place he would have to call home. His parents speaking to one another excitedly about the idea of their son finally going on his own 'journey'. "Awh! Our son is finally becoming a grownup! It brings a tear to my eyes!" His father cried. "Oh, Raphael, you're being a little overdramatic. He's still our little baby boy and he's only living a few neighborhoods down. We'll be able to see him frequently, right dear?" Angie had said, looking at Marco through the rear view mirror. Marco only tapped on his lap, smiling a nervous smile and nodded. "O-of course! You guys can visit me all the time." He said through his teeth, looking out the window. All the houses down that street seemed quiet and almost dead, at least he would have some peace and quiet for awhile. He chewed on his lip, scared to be on his own now. But at the same time he felt like he could do it, to be independent and learn to survive on his own.

As Mr. Diaz drove up to the home, Marco only looked up at the big house. He swallowed hard at the sight, it seemed big. Bigger than he would have imagined. His thoughts were cut off by the sound of his mother congratulating him on his new home, and telling him to go inside to take a look while they grabbed the boxes of his items from the trunk. Marco stepped out of the car, walking slowly to his new home, hesitantly walking up the driveway and to the doorstep. It seemed like an old home, as if it's been around for a long time. Lucky for him, his grandmother had left most of her furniture and kitchenware inside, letting Marco start off small until he was able to afford getting his own things. Grabbing the doorknob, he opened the door, a loud creak echoing throughout the entire house, almost eerily. He felt like chickening out at any moment. He could've sworn that the home had bad energy coming out of it. Instead, he only took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Don't be a coward, Diaz." He said and walked inside. He only had a vague memory of being here, and that was when he stayed overnight when he was only five. He never returned afterwards because he recalled seeing a "ghost" in the guest bedroom, but that was a long time ago, he learned that it was only his imagination fooling with him.

Marco walked around the house quietly, the wooden floor creaking within every step he took. He had only looked around the living room, kitchen, and dining room area until his parents called him from the other room. "Okay! Now, if you ever need anything, just give us a call okay? Anything at all! You can visit anytime you'd like. Except Wednesdays, Wednesdays are bowling night!" Angie stated, giving her son a big hug. Raphael joined in on the hug, sniffling and croaking out a mumbled sentence. "We love you, Mijo. Be safe." He said almost in a near sob. Marco had pulled away from the hug and smiled at the both of them. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I promise." He chuckled weakly and gave them one last hug before they walked out of the home. Marco sighed and closed the door, turning to face his new home. "I'm totally gonna be fine. No problemo." He said with confidence, grabbing the first box from a top of a pile in front of the kitchen, plopping it down on a couch in the living room. He grabbed some scissors and opened it up, revealing some picture frames, grabbing a good handful and placing them above a fireplace in the living room. "Let's just hope this won't be a fire hazard." He mumbled to himself, sighing and sitting on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. "The rest of you guys are going upstairs." He spoke to himself once again, standing back up and taking the box upstairs.

This was the hard part, choosing a room. Of course he'd probably choose the room his grandmother had stayed in, for safety reasons of course. It had almost seemed like every part of the house creaked with every movement, even though the house was in pretty good shape for being around almost a hundred years, the water pipes were great, heating was good, and the electricity was pretty good too. Marco had finished unpacking most of his things, getting comfortable around the new home already. "This won't be so bad." He mumbled. That was until nighttime came. The Hispanic boy felt goosebumps on his skin as he began to get ready for bed, that was one of the scary things about moving somewhere new. Marco had thought that if he just went to bed, he'd be fine, and that's what he did. Lucky for him, he knocked out like a light once he turned off his lamp.

\--

For almost hundreds and thousands of years, he's been there. With every person who's lived there, but with no way of communication. He was just an invisible wad of soul and energy combined. Tom was nobody. He had no memory of his past, no memory of who he was, no memory of his death. All he knew was his name and the idea of being dead. He's learned to go with it, to just watch and follow around the owners of the home. He would state them as "Come and Goes". They would move in, enjoy living there, then finally move out to someplace better. That was what he knows and deals with. Normally he wouldn't care about new owners, like the old woman, and the man before that, then the family before that and so on. He had learned that everyone who has lived there, they were related somehow. Grandparents, Grandchildren, Cousins, any sort of relative lived there. And he had to interest of learning about their lives. That was until he saw one particular boy move in.

His name was Marco, he had learned. He had also learned that he _loved_ to talk to himself. It was weird, but to him it felt like he was actually being talked to. Even if the boy knew nothing about his existence or his presence of being there at all. Tom had watched and followed him around the whole entire time he was there. He then found out that talking to himself was probably a habit, he'd laugh about it too. Tom had taken an interest in this Marco person, he wasn't as boring as the people before him. But that didn't mean he wasn't boring at all. He was way too safe about things, calling small flaws "hazards". That was of course too boring and safe for his liking. Once Marco was about to go to bed, Tom thought he should go back to the attic where he usually stays, but he was impressed on how fast Marco had fallen asleep. Tom went back to him, floating above the sleeping boy. He took his time to look over his features. Messy brown hair, tan skin, a beauty mark on his right cheek. He was interesting, never seen anyone like him. Or at least he thought so.

Tom had watched him for a long time, longer than he realized. Before he knew it, the clock on the dresser had already said three a.m. It seemed he had to pry himself away from Marco, away from staring at him of course. He went back up to his attic, going to his usual spot by the circular window. The attic was the only place he would most likely call home, other places of the house had not pleased him. The area had given him much entertainment, rummaging through old chests full of random items. He had taken a liking to a certain object almost a few hundred years ago, it looked like a stone, almost a violet color. He had figured it was his in his when he was alive. That was the only thing that gave him complete comfort. Most days he'd stare at it, and wonder why it attracted him. The question lingered through his mind, about his life. If he had fallen in love, had a family. He would even daydream about it, thinking maybe he had a good life. He would always shrug it off, wondering if one day he could have that again.

Sitting in the attic, he didn't wonder about any of that, all he wondered was about Marco. Where he came from and if he had some relation to the old woman who was once there. But he knew that learning more about him would be for tomorrow. For now, he only went to sleep, first time in almost a thousand years, he had a dream. The most wonderful dream ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! Thanks to tomco-headcannons for letting me use their au! <3


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